Crazy, Crazy, Crazy
by SurprisinglyOdd
Summary: The Sierra Madre lies in ruins, lost beneath a toxic, purple cloud amongst the valley of the dead where all is stained with crimson. Yet the courier can't let go. The casino that stole her sanity is keeping her here, trapped in a cage of memories. She remembers Christine. Christine will save her. Before she goes crazy, that is. Crazy, crazy, crazy. One-shot. Dead Money Bad Ending.


It had been weeks. Weeks since the Sierra Madre casino had finally opened for business in an amazing display of fireworks and music. She remembered the colours. The noise. All too bright and all too loud. And she remembered being high above them. So high above the shadows that roamed the courtyards. High and dizzy and dying.

She remembered that heavy, metal collar. She remembered how it locked so tightly around her throat. It had almost choked her. She wished it had. Every so often, it would emit the softest beeping, just to remind her that she was a slave to it. It liked to make fun of her, the Sierra Madre. Always watching her. Making her feel safe for a moment then... Craziness. Toxic cloud, ghost people, bear traps.

Crazy.

Crazy, crazy, crazy.

It had been weeks since the casino had tempted her. It had drawn her in, filled her vision with gold and then took it all away. No. It didn't do that. Nothing had been taken. Nothing had gone. She'd had to make a choice. Been forced to. Stay, die. Live, die. What did it matter? Who cared? Crazy people!

Crazy, crazy, crazy. And of course, it had been weeks since she had turned back and taken in the pre-war death trap for the last time, letting the toxic haze consume it and steal it from her vision. Gone. Weeks since then. Such a long, long time.

Had it really been weeks? The courier had lost track of time since then.

She lay now on the cold, metal floor of the abandoned bunker, surrounded by empty beer bottles and syringes. She didn't remember how she had gotten here. She had been to exhausted for her mind to properly function. She had been solely focused on one woman, the woman who now would be roaming that casino until it took her. Until it replaced her. Just as it had replaced the others. Replaced her with a soulless, flickering hologram and drained the burning fire in her heart for good.

The courier had not yet willed herself to leave. No. She couldn't. They were out to get her. And if she moved past the radio, she knew what would happen. The collar around her neck would explode. Kill her. She pressed a trembling hand to her neck and felt only smooth skin. But that didn't make sense. She could still hear the beeping.

And then there was the radio. The radio that played Christine's voice over and over on a constant loop. Vera's voice. Vera. Christine. Both the same. Both dead. Almost dead. Better dead.

Hers was the voice that had lured her to the casino, and hers was the voice that would keep her here. Christine. Vera. Christine.

She remembered Christine the most. She remembered taking her hand and promising to return to her. How she had hugged the woman tightly and whispered comfort in her ears. She had traced the woman's scars lightly with the tips of her fingers and called her beautiful. So beautiful. Christine had kissed her before she left, using the little of her remaining strength to speak to her, just one last time before the door closed between them.

"Good luck, Courier. Be safe."

Safe. What did that mean? She wasn't safe. She was cold. Her dress was in tatters, so every inch of bare skin connected with the smooth steel. Steel walls, steel floors, steel doors, steel heart.

Crazy.

The courier trembled, quickly pressing the bottle to her lips and consuming the mind numbing substance before she went crazy. Ha! Crazy! She could feel her sanity slipping away with every sip, every sob. She was alone, with no way to break free of the memories that constantly weighed her down. She was suffocating every day, with no way to escape. Going crazy.

The casino had broken her. Or simply damaged her beyond repair. She remembered that in the midst of the darkness, hope had always been peering in from around the corner, always much too far for her to reach. She had been forced to kill a friend and say goodbye to the only love she had never known. Christine. Christine, Christine, Christine.

The Courier slowly opened her eyes to peer down at the small slip of paper that was crumpled in her hand. She unfolded it, the small light from the radio shining just enough for her to make out the shaky, clumsy lettering.

Let go, Courier - C

She blinked at the note, remembering how it had been left by the fountain in the center of the villa. She set it aside and slowly, shakily got to her feet. She glanced at the large, steel footlocker in the corner. Her possessions lay within it. Weapons, armour, food. Beer. Chems. She didn't know what she needed.

And then she did.

She crawled to the footlocker. Opened it. Searched. Calmly and then frantically. She withdrew the pistol and turned to the radio. With hands trembling violently, she firmly gripped the gun and aimed. Fired. She didn't hear the gunshot. She didn't hear Christine. And she wouldn't hear her. Not ever again.

Vera. Christine. Dead. Lost. Dead.

Crazy.

Crazycrazycrazycrazy.

With a blank, deadened expression the courier turned to the rusted rungs of the ladder which would lead her back to the surface world. Once, she would have returned. The Sierra Madre was behind her now, consumed by a purple haze amidst the valley of the dead where all was stained with crimson...

Her fingers found the smooth metal of her collar. She couldn't go. She knew the consequences. She had to wait. She had to wait for Christine. Christine had always helped her. Had always stopped the collar from beeping. She didn't know how. She just had to wait. And if she waited, Christine would come. Because they loved each other, and their love was beautiful. And crazy. Wonderfully crazy.

Crazy, crazy, crazy.


End file.
